


You Can Leave Your Hat On

by Meta



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, OOC as hell, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-19
Updated: 2012-05-19
Packaged: 2017-11-05 15:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meta/pseuds/Meta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for <a href="http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/2069.html?thread=1937173#t1937173">this</a> prompt:</p>
<blockquote>
  <p>I've got a hankering for a "Derek pays the bills by secretely working as a stripper and Stiles accidentally finds out" fic.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Leave Your Hat On

**Author's Note:**

> Fluff, pure unadulterated fluff. I have no apologies (and no shame, either).

Stiles would like to enter the following into the records (whichever, congressional even):

_This was not my idea. This was not my idea of a good time. This will not be a good time. This is a recipe for a disaster._

For Stiles’ eighteenth birthday his friends - Scott, and... well mostly Scott - and forced colleagues - Danny - and frenemies - Jackson - a word that made Stiles feel shame for even thinking of it; anyhow the group decided that Stiles need to see a strip show.

A _male_ strip show. Because it would be _funny_. This is how he ended in the strip club. Why was he alone in the strip club? Because the guys decided to abandon him as a prank - because _funny_. Why did he stay after the announcer announced - and hey look, alliteration - a distinctly male name and after noticing the clientele was mostly randy middle aged females? Because he was _Stiles_ \- and really, Scott should’ve known better. Also beer - once in the club no ID necessary - so Stiles did the sensible thing and ordered himself a brew.

A few moments later the sound system started pumping that cheesy Joe Cocker’s song and - man, oh man - a _man_ walked on stage in a _suit_ wearing a fedora. There was something about him that had Stiles inner voice go all - _‘Hey I know him’_ \- and because he didn’t really see who it was from all the way to the bar he decided he would go closer to the stage. The man threw the fedora into the public and started swaying on the stage - that is when recognition hit Stiles. The man - oh god he dropped his jacket - was _Derek._ Derek _the Sourwolf_. Derek _the Alpha._ And while Stiles always wondered how the perennially grim Derek actually got the moolah to pay for... well, whatever the werewolf needed. But this, Derek with a laidback smile oscillating with his body on the stage. Well, that made Stiles ping in all the ways he will need to consider at a later date - his brain was still maxed with trying to remember and preserve _every single move_ the man made.

Derek snapping his suspenders brought Stiles out of his reverie (and, _god,_ how will he ever look Derek in the face _again -_ without remembering how he managed to look completely debauched, while loosening his tie and slipping his suspenders down and pulling up his shirt and his muscles drenched in sweat and lotion or oil glistening under the lights and how the strobe light made his muscles all the more impressive and how his body undulated to the rhythm of the music and he looked...). Derek throwing his shirt and hitting Stiles made him move (on red alert, _oh my god what if he noticed me_ ) and the hardness in Stiles’ pants wanted him to make a detour into the nearest bathroom.

In the end vision of glowing red eyes made him forget about any boner.

-

The next day Jackson runned up to Stiles and elbowed him in the sides, “How was the show?” snickered Jackson. And Stiles, “Fine. Learned some new moves. Wanna see?”

Stiles though Jackson had no right to looked slightly green at the suggestion.

-

Stiles skipped the next pack meeting. Scott relayed to Stiles that Derek was furious - but the only picture Stiles’ brains could conjure up was Derek on his bed, half covered with a sheet and half covered with hickeys.

-

Stiles skipped the pack meeting after that one. But this time he actually had an excuse - detention!

-

And he skipped the next one as well. So while he could’ve expect Derek in his room looking all surly-like, he didn’t and instead of being cool and suave he jumped sky high and his brains filled with _the Images_ (and yes, god yes, did they deserve the capital letter).

“Will we have a problem?” asked Derek

“What? What problem? That is problem with what?” replied Stiles and winced inwardly - _Cool going Stiles_ \- he berated himself.

“I know you saw me,” and Stiles winced outwardly this time, “Saw how I make my money. Will we have a problem Stiles?”

“Nope, no problem,” said Stiles, shaking his head rapidly - when he calmed enough to stop Derek was long gone.

-

The next few pack meeting were a wee bit awkward for Stiles - what with his perma-boner(TM).

-

Stiles was a weak person. That is how he found himself back at the strip club. This time he stayed until Derek’s pants came off - and that there will be subject to many a wank sessions.

-

A few minutes after he came home Derek jumped in through his window. He walked towards Stiles who moved backwards until the wall hit his back and Derek crowded his personal space. Derek lowered his head into the crook of Stiles’ neck and _sniffed_.

“I wasn’t sure,” he said.

“I thought you werewolves could sniff out hormones,” _gasped_ Stiles when Derek _licked_ his neck and nipped gently.

“I thought”, Derek paused to look Stiles and said, “I thought you were thinking about Lydia,” before lowering his head and pulling Stiles into a kiss.

-

“We should talk about your job,” said Stiles a few hours later, “cause all this,” waving his hand across Derek’s body, “ _is mine._ ”

Derek grinned and pulled Stiles down.

“They fired me,” said Derek, “apparently you don’t just get off stage to chase after your crush.”

_fin._


End file.
